


World View

by Aceworu



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Abuse, Backstory, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, i've always wanted to know what he saw come on tlus, so here's an attempt at that, the scene in golden where adachi sees the world from yu's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aceworu/pseuds/Aceworu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What a masterpiece! I saw it. I felt it. The world from your perspective."</p>
            </blockquote>





	World View

You’re six years old and you’re home alone in an apartment that feels much too big for you to ever belong in. You aren’t sure if it’s the first time, or the hundredth time, but it’s normal for you. You eat a small meal, prepared in the microwave per the instructions on the box. A magician is on the television, catching your attention. It just about manages to block out the silence of the rest of the apartment.

 

You’re ten years old and a letter arrives from a town called Inaba. It strikes you, standing out from the routine bills and the correspondence from important sounding corporations. You examine the name on it. Dojima. It sounds familiar, your brain providing the rare instance of your mother talking of her family. You open it, curiosity getting the better of you.

There’s some color photos along with the letter. A man - you presume your uncle - smiling next to an equally ecstatic women in a hospital bed. She has a small pink bundle in her arms. The next photo is your uncle holding them, looking awkward and unsure how to handle such a small person. But still just as happy. You skim the letter. You can't quite read all the kanji, but you well enough to get it. You have a cousin now, Nanako.

Your heart swells, an unfamiliar sort of happiness running through you. Without any siblings, you’ve never experienced another child coming into the family. It’s exciting, making you want to go to Inaba and meet her yourself, even when you have no idea where Inaba actually is. The thought occurs that you could at least send something, your uncle’s address right there on the paper. Your parents could but something practical, some sort of thing parents need for a baby but you want to send them something from you.

A thought strikes you, and you grab your school bag, ruffling for the cooking magazine you had stowed away. You flip through it, finding the beginner cookie recipe you had earmarked before. You get to work, focusing so intently you hardly notice when your mother comes through the door. You wipe off your hands before happily greeting her with the letter and photos, announcing the happy addition to the family. Your mother simply clucks her tongue, chastising you for the mess you’ve made in the kitchen and on your clothing. She takes the letter more forcefully than necessary, instructing you to get started on your school work at once.

You fidget, telling her you have cookies in the oven to take out soon. She puts on a smile, one that puts you more on edge than relaxes you, saying she’ll take them out before she goes back to work. You nod meekly, slinking away towards you room. You aren’t surprised to take out burnt cookies after she leaves again.

 

You’re thirteen, and you’ll only be at this school for about a month, 6 weeks at the most. There’s not really a point to get to know the new faces you greet your first day. Not when they’ll be replaced soon with people you’ll probably leave just as fast. So you keep to yourself, politely declining invitations until they taper out, letting yourself fade into the background. It makes it easier to leave, you think.

Dojima sends another letter, as he usually does when you arrive at a new place. You wonder how he keeps getting your address, thinking it almost impossible that your parents notify him or interact with him much at all. Still, you enjoy reading it, learning about the goings on off the small town, of the milestones Nanako reaches. He doesn’t send pictures like before, but you appreciate it all the same. The letters had tapered off, usually only getting one when you move now. You’ll leave them out for your parents to read when you’re done. When a week’s passed with no evidence it’s been touched, you pick it up again, putting it with the others in your room.

 

You’re fourteen, and you’ve started to like someone. A boy. it doesn’t strike you as odd, really. You’ve liked girls before, when you let yourself get that invested. It just seems like an extension of that. Through some awkward pubescent luck, he likes you, too. You shyly invite him over, holding his hand the whole way. He seems nervous, looking around as you walk, and you just chock it up to being shy. He relaxes considerably when you’re inside your most recent apartment, happily sitting next you on the couch, still holding your hand as you lean against each other and watch tv. You close your eyes, smiling blissfully. You feel warm, content. You like this, having someone so close to you.

The next thing you know there’s a bruising grip on your arm, pulling you roughly off of the couch. You’re barely able to register your father standing over you, yelling at you. His face is twisted in what you’d later recognize as disgust, anger. The boy bolts out, and when the sound of the front door slamming shut fills the apartment, your father throws you to the ground. Get out of his sight, he says. You stammer out apologies, tears in your eyes as you retreat into your room. You curl up in your bed there, feeling like you might throw up. You don't think it’s a coincidence when your father accepts a promotion and is reassigned to a new location a few weeks after. But you dont say anything.

You’re fifteen, and you’re holding a letter from Dojima. It’s odd, as his letters had slowed to a stop the last few times you moved. But you open it with all the same enthusiasm, eager to hear about a happy family. Pulling out the letter, you frown at how short it is, the brevity unsettling you. You get to reading, and you only feel worse. Your aunt, Chisato-san, had been killed in a hit in run. The rest of the letter details the date of the memorial and funeral for her, obviously in hopes his sister’s family would come. You sit down, practically collapsing into a kitchen chair. You had never met her, and it still hits you hard, a weight on your chest. Your brain checks the year Nanako was born, reasoning that she can't be older than five. Your shoulders slump, unable to imagine losing someone at that age.

You leave the letter right where your mother leaves her keys at night. She seems a bit sad the next few times you see her, but nothing is brought up.

 

At sixteen years old, right at the start of your second year, you’re standing at the Inaba Train Station. You’re to spend a year here, continuing your education as your parents work overseas. You breath in the air, amazed at how much fresher it smells than city air. It’s so much more quiet.

Dojima greets you soon after you arrive, Nanako following closely behind. He looks older than in those photos from over half a decade ago, and much more tired. Nanako is as precious as one would expect a girl her age to be, and you think staying here with them will be alright. You introduce yourself, suddenly unsure if your mother had ever bothered to tell her brother your name. Dojima laughs it off, saying there’s no need to be formal, as if this isn’t the first time they’ve really met.

The next day you meet a girl named Chie and her friend, Yukiko. They invite you to walk home with them, and you accept. You aren’t quite sure how to handle people here yet. You’re here for a year, a significant amount of time. But it’s definite that you’ll be leaving, finishing high school in the city before being carted off to whatever elite college your parents choose for you. Still, you think it can't hurt to talk a bit. Soon you meet a boy named Yosuke by pulling him out of the trash. He’s got dyed hair and a goofy smile and thanks you with a wink. It makes your heart skip a beat, and a twinge of fear strike through you. But when he takes you out for food, you agree.

You could’ve never imagined everything that happened soon after. The TV World, personas, investigation the murders with your ragtag group. You get to know your team, Dojima and nanako, kids at school and people around town. Even Dojima’s partner, as stand offish and anti-social as he seems. You feed stray cats and Dojima doesn't complain with they hang around the car port. You get people things they need, listen to people’s problems. You watch as Dojima and Nanako grow closer, your heart swelling as Dojima works to spend more time with her, make her feel loved. You don't think you’ll ever be able to describe the feeling of when Dojima gives you your own mug, welcoming you into his family. You almost feel like his son, though you wouldn’t dare mention it out loud.

You look over your team when you’re gathered at the Junes food court, talking excitedly over summer plans or the school trip, or just what movies were showing at Okina that weekend. You smile, feeling that warm happiness again. Yosuke catches your eye and smiles back, pulling you into a conversation about weather Dumminator is better than Trial of the Dragon or vice-versa. You laugh, saying you enjoy them both, really. You take a moment to take everything, marveling at the fact that for the first time in ages, you actually feel whole.

 

You’re seventeen. It’s November. Nothing is going right. Nanako lays fighting for her life in a hospital bed. Dojima injured from going after her. No one to greet you when you come home. It’s too quiet. Too still. Everything feels like a reminder that you failed. That you couldn't protect the people closest to you. You almost can't breathe. Your heart feels like a lump in your throat.

You tuck yourself away, between the couch and desk in your room. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone. Childing instinct pushing you for the number you haven’t called since you were given it. The line rings only a couple times.

“Mariko Seta’s office.” A clear voice answers in english. It catches you off guard, even with knowing where your parents are. You recover, clearing throat.

“Ah, this is Souji, Mrs Seta’s son.” You let out a breath, heart thundering. It’s a challenge to keep up with english like this. “Is it possible to talk to her? I-it’s a pretty serious family issue.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you almost panic that you’ve been hung up on before the clear voice speaks again. “Of course, Souji, I’ll see if she’s available. Please hold.” They switch you over to generic hold music, some american tune you can’t quite place. You relax a bit, leaning against the wall, letting yourself hope. The music clicks off.

“Souji?”

“Y-yes?”

“Im very sorry, but your mother isn't available at the moment. She’ll have to call you back.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, nausea swelling up in your throat. To their credit, the clear voice does sound genuinely apologetic, even concerned. You aren’t upset with them, you know they can't help that your parents refuse to speak to you if you can help it. You swallow.

“Ah, I understand. Thank you for your time.”

You flip your phone shut before they can reply. You stare down at it, clenching it in your hand. A swell of frustration wells up in you, anger and hurt and abandonment all mixing together. Hot tears blur your vision. You throw your phone, hearing it bounce along the floor as you curl up, making yourself more compact. You cry, for the first time in who knows how long. Sobs shake your form. Making you wish you had someone, anyone by your side.

 

December. She’s gone. Nanako is _gone_. You drag the man responsible behind you, fully intending to throw him back into the other side, leave him for the shadows to take care of. He deserves this. He’s put you, your family, your friends, through hell. You can still see Dojima on his knees in her hospital room, can still hear her flatlining. Everything is red, your body tense with anger and hate and grief. You coldly move towards the large tv in the room - what were the police thinking, giving a murderer, a monster like him such a nice room. Nanako wanted to live, she wanted to make a snowman together, to spend more time with her father and her new big bro, she wanted

You stumble, breath catching in your throat. You drop Namatame from your grip, hands reaching out to steady yourself against the tv. You hand you head, trying to catch your breath. Yosuke is yelling behind you, but you can't quite hear him, everything sounding far away as static fills your head.

You can't. You can’t, you should want to, you shoud be able to, but you can’t. She wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want her brother to be a killer, not even on her behalf, even if they deserve it. You tighten your grip, letting the shame wash over you, mixing with the disgusting cocktail of emotions already inside you. You take a deep breath, ready to face your team and try to lead them out of this, try to find another way, another solution. You lift your head. But it’s not your own reflection that greets you on the television screen.

An olden man. Tired gray eyes, dark tousled hair, a suit and sloppy, red tie. Even in shock your brain registers the sight. Detective Adachi, your uncle’s partner. You reel back, everything rushing forward into white.

\---

It takes Adachi a moment to process what he’d just seen, the images and sounds and feelings that had forced their way into his head. It clicks that what he saw was Souji, the world from their view, and he laughs. He looks up to Souji standing in front of him, looking more shaken up than Adachi had ever seen. It was a good look for them. It almost made Adachi laugh again.

“What a masterpiece! I saw it. I felt it. The world from your perspective."

That seems to shock Souji even more, making them take a step back. A flash of fear, of vulnerability runs over their face. Adachi enjoys it, seeing someone usually so cool and composed crack like that. He wants to push it more.

"Meaning that you saw it too, right? The world from my perspective?”

No response. Adachi frowns. He holds up his gun, figuring Souji might as well leave if they’re gonna be so boring. “Go home now. To your little friends."

Souji opens his mouth, tries to say more, try to get him to ‘see the light’ or ‘do the right thing’ or some other bullshit. It pisses Adachi off. His finger squeezes the trigger, sending a bullet right past Souji’s head. The teen collapses to the ground, wide eyed and shaking. Adachi looks down on them, contempt as clear as day on his face, gold eyes unsettling. "You really creep me out, you know that?"

When the brat’s finally left, Adachi makes himself comfortable on the bed, tapping his gun against the side. The brat’s too needy for their own good, he thinks. They’re only in this mess because they had to go and get in everyone’s business, trying to feel needed. Adachi laughs again. It would be so satisfying to beat them down, show them how easy it is to feel empty again.

Adachi grins to himself. He can’t wait for the fun to start.

**Author's Note:**

> SO here's a fic i've been meaning to write for. ages. a few months, probably, at the very least. I have a lot of headcanon's about Souji's past before he came to Inaba, and this concept was a pretty good way to explore, that I think.
> 
> [tumblr :V](http://anxioussouji.tumblr.com)


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